The Good Are the Enemy of the Great

How can I possibly say that with any humility? Being human can feel so mediocre - so lazy, mundane and repetitive. I am tired and bored with the resentments and fears dancing in circles between my ears. I want to grab a couple of actors and do some raw shit on film. I want to eviscerate. I want raw emotion from an actor's guts.
I had this audition recently - more of the same phony pantomime shit like my last audition for a commercial. Result direction. No callback. No desire to get better at hamming it up.
I taught class last night. Lots of evasion and ego on the part of the actors. Not completely. A couple of actors tried to stay with themsleves and managed to do so well enough. One actor opened something. I wanted to call the whole thing off - I wanted to get up and scream something like - TELL ME THE FUCKING TRUTH, PLEASE! SOMEBODY!
Later on I met an actor that is new in town. We talked. I gave him my spiel. I was true, but I doubted our compatibility. He had been referred to another acting coach on town by his agent. I thought that particular agency was giving actors my name as well. Certainly in some cases but apparently not others. I've been thinking about that a lot today. I've also heard a rather nasty rumour about me that originated out of that other studio. I am somewhat indifferent, which isn't to say neutral.
I'm reactive. I've been increasingly reactive lately. Emotionally raw. DIsturbed.
I am not happy, joyous or free.
I am at the mercy of patience - not biding my time, but staying with myself moment to moment. I've been trying to contact the moment all afternoon. Driving up the Gorge. Simple prayers. Love is greater than fear. Love is greater than fear.
I used to spend at least one twenty-four hour stretch in Atlantic City every week. I could work two hands on a $25 Blackjack table well, working the odds and the cards with patience to build a stake. Playing with house money. Though my cronies and I always reminded ourselves that once we won it was OUR MONEY. The failure of my brief career as a professional gambler was due largely to an uncanny streak of dropping a $50 chip on number 26 of the Roulette wheel and hitting it, to which I would regularly boast - Seventeen hundred and fifty mothereffin dollars! As I collected my money I was reminded to watch my mouth by pit boss after pit boss. I also rolled fours and tens on the craps table. As one denizen of Trump Taj Mahal serenaded me one early morn, You don't bet 'gainst a man that roll fo's and ten's! Someone betting against my forty-five minute turn throwing the dice and those deadly fo's and tens lost over a hundred thousand dollars while the rest of us cleaned up. Every run of luck runs out. Lack of patience burns. To be a professional gambler one has to have an ass made of leather, a will of iron and ice water in the veins. Like I said, my career was short-lived.
I didn't have the emotional endurance.
I want to be your horse, but I feel like a longshot.
That's me - not the good, certainly not one of the great ones, just a longshot on a sunny, boozy trip to the Meadowlands. So tear up your ticket and head over to one of those air-conditioned Jersey strip joints where everybody looks like an extra on the Sopranos.

Washed Up and Wrung Out,
Signore Direttore

The Master Says 038

You make films to give people something, to transport them somewhere else, and it doesn't matter if you transport them to a world of intuition or a world of intellect...A lot of people don't understand the direction in which I'm going. They think...I've betrayed my way of looking at the world...I absolutely don't feel I've betrayed any of my opinions or my attitude to life. The realm of superstitions, fortune-telling, presentiments, intuition, dreams, all this is the inner life of a human being, and all this is the hardest thing to film...I've been trying to get there from the beginning. I'm somebody who doesn't know, somebody who's searching.

Krzysztof Kieslowski

Resonance

Walking home from a film last night, a friend asked me what are the moments in films that not only stick with me, but hit me with comparable force each time I see them anew. Excellent question. My immediate response -- The Godfather. More followed. What about Fellini? he asked. Oh. Yes. Fellini. Fellini films don't have moments that resonate so much as interweave as a continuum into the fabric of eternity. Lofty praise, I know. Believe.
In terms of story I think of Keislowski. I added that the story of Made Crooked is one that continues to reveal itself to me, its profundity resonates. Whether we got that shooting is another story. Perhaps we did, I simply have no way of knowing until we're much further into editing.
My friend said he was asking himself that question in order to examine how he might tell better stories. I like that. I'm glad to have a filmmaker friend that is not simply into making it big or "wouldn't it be cool" arbitrary shots. What's more, this particular friend believes in my filmmaking abilities more than I do. He's the one person reminding me to stay on track as I trudge through the rest of my present situation.
As I let go of my more grandiose goals, it's sometimes difficult to remember that my humble goals are not only worth pursuing, but truly the most worthy of my energy. It is likely that from this departure point more moments in my films will have a chance to resonate.
But when? Patience. Patience sucks.
Oh. Big sigh. As always, I'm right where I'm supposed to be.

A River Dertch,
Signore Direttore

The Master Says 037

Man acts as though he were the shaper and master of language, while in fact language remains the master of man.

Martin Heidegger

The Critic

The critic is a nihilist. While those that claim that nothing matters may be closer to the truth that there is no Truth, they aren't much closer to their humanity. It's not quite the opposite side of the same coin, but it's an extreme reaction.

F. Scott Fitzgerald claimed to be a nihilist, but he sure paid close attention to the details of individual and cultural behavior for someone who doesn't think anything matters very much. I don't want to present a critical analysis of FSF. I am not qualified to say much beyond the fact that I loved This Side of Paradise when in high school - it spoke to me about my inability to will certain changes in myself, particularly regarding conformity and conventional achievement. His alcoholism and despair frightened me, perhaps because I related very closely in that regard as well. Oh how I loved Amory Blaine's kissing games -- the way he would pursue a kiss for the sake of the kiss. Even when he felt nothing for the girl melancholy would overwhelm him were he denied.

I've heard it said that nobody ever raised a statue to a critic.
When I criticize I cut off my authentic self and seek to apply standards and judgments. Standards and judgments that I have learned and that prevent me from doing my own work for fear of failing to meet the selfsame restrictive criteria. If you go out into the wilderness there are no comprehensive guidelines. You can never bring enough gear to handle every potential challenge.
I am going through a very tough thing right now, something that I thought I would never have to do. I am doing my best, but I am doing some things very poorly. As I started to judge myself yesterday, I reminded myself that I don't want to be good or get good at this particular thing. I just want to do my very best to be present and as honest as I can be. That's probably not going to be one hundred percent. I am not pure. I am human. One of the herd grazing on the fringes.

Moo,
Signore Direttore

Tranquilizer Darts in my Psyche

I am a lover of language learning to hate my lover. She is my muse as well as my oppressor. You're really going have to have to deal with more of this as I dig ever deeper into Nietzsche. He says the wise learn to love their enemies and hate their friends. Language is my bosom bud and I am learning also to despise its tyranny of personal pronouns, polemics and its proclivity toward cultural memes.

For instance, right about now a funk soul brother is feeling light and free and doesn't care about making sense to others or about being comprehensive. Joyful. And you know what? I'm afraid to appear excited. I fear labels of manic and euphoric as they seem to indicate a lack of perspective. Good! I don't want too much god damn perspective. Which has been conflated to mean MENTALLY ILL. Doesn't perspective refer to the point of view of the herd? Doesn't it chastise and shame the invididual for being other? Doesn't it call us crazy when we don't conform?

Ugh. Fuck off, herd. Everytime I get up close to the other animals it feels gross - it stinks with rot and corruption. I'd rather hang out over here and enjoy my own aromas and get comfortable with the fact that I am not moral or upright. My shit stinks, but it is necessary to my existence. Keep your various perfumes.
Only that without history can be defined, says Freidrich. I have a history. I definitely have a past - a really sordid one full of selfishness, fear, dishonesty, crime, drug abuse, alcoholism, sexual abuse, physical abuse, psychological trauma, irresponsibility, recklessness, pain, pleasure and unbelievable opportunity. Not least of which is my will to survive through self-reinvention and exploration. Will to power. The herd don't like that will to power mojo.

I am not definable for I am ever changing. This isn't a new idea. Darwin, baby. Read that shit. My species: artist. I have my eyes and my heart open. I am evolving. My mobility defies definition.
I'm tired of apologizing for that. I'm tired of hiding my joy and my excitement. I am tired of apologizing for my suffering. You gotta suffer, darlin. It's part of the deal.
Furthermore…
I'm tired of being a critic -- Disgust with cynicism is being experienced.

Your,
Signore Direttore, Goddammit.

The Master Says 036

The surest way to corrupt a youth is to instruct him to hold in higher esteem those who think alike than those who think differently.

Friedrich Nietzsche

What A Bunch of Amateurs

Word History: When Mrs. T.W. Atkinson remarked in her 1863 Recollections of the Tartar Steppes and their Inhabitants, “I am no amateur of these melons,” she used amateur in a sense unfamiliar to us. That sense, “a lover, an admirer,” is, however, clearly descended from the senses of the word's ultimate Latin source, amtor, “lover, devoted friend, devotee, enthusiastic pursuer of an objective,” and from its Latin-derived French source, amateur, with a similar range of meanings. First recorded in English in 1784 with the sense in which Mrs. Atkinson used it, amateur is found in 1786 with a meaning more familiar to us, “a person who engages in an art, for example, as a pastime rather than as a profession,” a sense that had already developed in French. Given the limitations of doing something as an amateur, it is not surprising that the word is soon after recorded in the disparaging sense we still use to refer to someone who lacks professional skill or ease in performance.

Nothing I have done in the arts for money has been as rewarding as the projects to which I've done from my heart. Perhaps one day the twain shall meet, but more experienced friends tell me that tis rare indeed.

Devoted Friend of the Cinema and Actors,
Signore Direttore

The Master Says 035

Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.

Walt Whitman

The Days Seem Like Weeks

Suppose it has been but a few days since my last write, though in emotional years it feels much longer. I'm going through it. That's all I can say publicly.
That's another reason for my silence on ye olde blog -- I feel censored by my current need to respect my privacy and of those that are close to me.
I have a lot to say, yet can't say it. I've been writing in my analog journal for the first time in months, something I did nearly daily since 1991 prior to Finding Fellini.

I saw Prairie Home Companion. I liked it. A lot. I felt sad afterwards.

The summer production season is upon us and I'm crazy at Gearhead. Overtime. Ch-ching. Bling bling. Don't be hatin. Or perpetratin.

Henry finished kindergarten today. I had the profoundly mundane realization that that will only happen once.

Michael Cassidy is in town and came over for waffles with me and the kids.

Nicola is in Hawaii, working. Henry calls it Hawati.

I nearly cut off the tip f my finger this morning at work. Typing is out of synch.

My desk is a mess. I have work to do, but I can barely keep from falling face down on my desk. Even reading the baseball scores is too much.

Macbeth in the park opens this weekend. I am looking forward to going, though I think it won't be until its second weekend.

Andrew Dickson is in town shilling for the man. Always good to see him.

I want to buy a Jeep and go camping. I could probably just go camping, but the Jeep has become part of it.

Send your money to my buy a Jeep to go camping fund when you get round to it.

Cheers,
Signore Direttore

Folk Wisdom 006

If you find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere.

The Master Says 034

It isn't easy to accept that suffering can also be beautiful... it's difficult. It's something you can only understand if you dig deeply into yourself.

Rainer W. Fassbinder

The Master Says 033

The reasonable man encounters circumstances and adapts himself to them. The unreasonable man persists in trying to adapt circumstances to himself. All progress depends upon the unreasonable man.

George Bernard Shaw

Euphoria

After the weekend of Made Crooked I experienced a heightened sense of myself, a dizzy euphoria. I felt in my body and beautiful. As it was a sensation that I had not felt without the aid of LSD or Ecstasy for a long, long time, I was very eager for those positive feelings to continue. It would be easy and tempting to beleive that the events of the weekend were responsible for this ecstasy. In fact, despite my cognitive awareness of the fallacy of that opinion it has had a grip on me.
I made some serious decisions to alter how I live my day to day life in order to allow myself to continue feeling beautiful. In fact I have forgotten what I did to prepare for the weekend. I was meditating regularly on allowing myself to experience my center and to heal emotionally - to become less congested emotionally and physically. I was eating well. I was focusing my energy on acceptance and tolerance. The idea that whatever happened at all would happen as it should was resonant. I was meeting calamity with serenity. Not only was I not experiencing the fallout of negative emotion, the positive acceptance I was practicing elated me.
In retrospect, I immediately started to engage in some old habits to hold onto this new way of experiencing the here and now. I am pleased that by being open and honest with the incredible supporting freinds in my life that clarity is possible. I don't know all the answers to the things I have set in motion. There is clearly more to be revealed.
Euphoria is a byproduct of sexual love or being in love with someone. Loving someone is more difficult to acheive. It can not be impetuous or frenzied. Still waters run deep.
Shooting a film in a weekend was like having a torrid affair with the muse.
Editing the film shot so rapturously is learning to love once the honeymoon is over.
Perhaps the waters of editing are too deep for an immature fool like me - the broiling brook of being on set steals my attention away from deeper waters.

Going Deep,
Signore Direttore

Advice on Memorizing Lines

Don't.

I read some actor's blog where he counts the number of lines after he's highlighted his then divides them by the number of days before he is to be off book.
I almost got mad when I read it, it is so wrong-headed.
Actors memorize lines because they don't know how to do text analysis. If you learn what the given circumstances are to you and the writing is good, you will say exactly what needs to be said less from memory than from structure.
Learning to work with the paper in your hand is a good idea. Why rush to get off book? So you can memorize the emotion of your scene along with the lines?
Not for me, amici.

¡viva!
Signore Direttore

The Master Says 032

Cinema isn't like chemistry where you can predict that ten grams of one substance, when combined with five grams of another, will give a particular result. With cinema, I do as I please.

Roman Polanski

Hearts and Minds

It's pretty much a bona fide historical joke that LBJ wanted to win the hearts and minds of the Vietnamese.
I can't seem to reconcile my own heart and mind. In trying to follow my heart, my head tells me I'm a fool.
What's that crap I try to remember?
Life is a mystery to be lived not a problem to be solved.

Ciao,
Signore Direttore

Notes on Future Films

I am always thinking about my next films. Currently I am attempting to focus my attention on cutting, but that is not a simple transition for me. Particularly now, as I am very distracted by some things in my personal life.
For some films I see a density of information in the frame and for others I see space. Original Glory is wide open - lots of sky and loneliness. Depth and separation of characters from one another and the landscape - emphasizing their inability to connect to the here and now. Perhaps an articulated coming closer as LBJ, the protagonist, is capable of more of a relationship with himself. Made Crooked was in-your-face doc style coverage, punctuated with longer shots that seemed to spy or reveal characters individually or in sub-groups. The density of the frame often depended on random impulses of actors and camera operators. Pendleton will use wider shots to include the landscape of Eastern Oregon and the emotional terrain of its characters. I like the idea of long lenses and wide vistas to flatten the space and emphasize familiarity of scale - father is taller than son, even though son is an adult. Smashing the characters into the land, rooting them there whether they like it or not. That's where they're from. I also like the idea of hanging the characters on a closeline in the distance, not literally but by flattening perspective. Hanging them out to dry.
My grandmother told me a story of how her father used to cut wood in South Dakota when she was a girl. (Aha! I used to stare at maps of South Dakota with longing - but never made the connection that my grandmotehr is from there.) He would jack the car up, remove one of the rear wheels and attach a belt to the axle that would power a saw. I want to rig something similiar in Pendleton for Zach/Clay to cut the wood for the picket fence he builds for his grandmother. But it sounds really fucking dangerous.
I want to experiment with longer interior shots and more intentionally dense frames in our next Actor's Retreat movie, which is tentatively planned for the Fall. I'm thinking of two families living in the same house or going to the same weekend house at different times. I don't know if their experiences are parallel or contradictory, but I like the idea of playing out different characters and their stories in the same space from the same perspective. I am going to rewatch Hou Hsien Hsien's Goodbye South Goodbye for inspiration. It is one of my favorite films. I recommended it to someone a few years ago. When they commented on the ending I was at a loss, for even though I had seen it a dozen times I didn't really care about the plot. I love the way it looks and feels - the story is incidental. Somewhat like Last Days- more of a psycho-spiritual journey than an entertainment.
I saw The Proposition. Ray Winstone was brilliant as always. Danny Huston is the guy that has stayed with me. He has such courage. At least his character did. I'm of the mind that the depth of personal courage that he showed can't be played or acted.
I'm also wondering if Emilio Estevez can act or if he's doomed to wooden characterizations that bank on the familiarity of sharing his infinitely more talented father's voice and demeanor.

Muesli,
Signore Direttore

The Master Says 031

To enjoy freedom we have to control ourselves.

Virginia Woolf

The Master Says 030

A film is born three times -- in the writing of the script, in the shooting and in the editing.

Robert Bresson

Storytelling

Where the writer's work ends the director's begins.
Where the director's work ends the actor's begins.
Where the actor's work ends the audience's begins.

That's the deal in the theatre.
In the film world there's an adjustment to be made:
Where the collaborative work of director-actor-photographer ends the editor's begins.

I've had a very difficult relationship with editing for the past few years. It has a lot to do with the expectations I've put on myself and my films. As soon as they have revealed themselves to be anything less than my vision, I've abandoned them to a purgatory of unfinished projects.
Things are changing. First off, I'm willing to learn from the work that I've done up to now and accept its flaws. Secondly, I am willing to embrace the discovery of happy accidents in the editing phase of filmmaking.

It's going to happen slowly. That's how writing used to be for me. My directing preparation process once required weeks for even a short film.
In the seventh grade I watched the lunch time basketball games from outside the cage. The next year I was the best player on the court. That happened because I had a basketball in my hands at every waking moment. So much so that years later my mom told me that whenever she heard a ball bouncing she still thought it was me coming home from the park or gym.

I miss those early mornings in Alberta Park circa 1979. All by myself shooting jumpers, running drills.
From U-C-L- AAAAAA- A! Neal, Neal, Neal Corl, Corl, C-orl,orl,orl!
And countless buzzer shots. 3-2-1! Corl hits it! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

The crowd goes crazy.

I have a Super 8 movie I made of my best friend Jeffrey Maxwell and I playing basketball in the park back then. I have a big bouncy white boy fro. When I dribble, I hang my off hand real low and loose like some sort of pubescent blacksploitation pimp. I slink more than I run. I look absolutely ridiculous. But I felt like the baddest white boy in the hood.

¡viva!
Signore Direttore

The Master Says 029

Since I'm not a second Marx or Freud who can offer people alternatives, I have to let them keep their own wrong feelings.

Rainer W. Fassbinder

I Want I Want I Want I Want

I want more time to devote to writing and filmmaking. I want to be doing less running around. It seems I always have several errands to do - things that are contigent upon still more niggling tasks. This morning I need to take my bicycle down to Bike Gallery and get the pedals and cleats on my shoes fixed. I have been doing that task for six weeks or more.
After dinner last night I went for a walk with Maisie, our three year old. It was a treat to be sure. "Do you like flowery plants, Daddy? They are so beautiful!" We went to the farmer's market near our house. She was thrilled by the baby pears. Looking across Hawthorne, I noticed the windows on the top floor of our building need painting. I've been putting that off since 1993. It's going to take about two hours per window. Even at a rate of two windows a week I could manage the South Side by mid-June. By the way, the two hour schedule only applies to a good job. Stripping the windows down to bare wood and restoring them to their original 1928 glory will require at least another thirteen years.
When I say I Want - I want it now and all at once.
That clearly doesn't work. I've been waiting for the big three weeks with nothing else to do but paint those windows for thirteen years.

I often wonder what I could possibly excise from my schedule. I have a sneaking suspicion that patient integration is the key to my sanity.

¡viva!
Signore Direttore

Head In the Clouds, Feet On the Ground

There's no As If about it - something profound shifted in many of us last weekend. Whether or not things shift back to previous conditions isn't really at issue. They may or may not recede to the status quo. It doesn't matter what happens in the future. Paying attention to the here and now is, as always, paramount. There are a few of us that are doing exactly that. I'm proud that we could engage in an artistic expirment that affected us spiritually and emotionally. It tells me we were on to something - that the process allowed a revelation of our inner lives that was previously inaccesible. Isn't that the point?
What did we do that facilitated such discovery? First off, we let go of getting it right. We adhered to a structure of dramatic storytelling wherein we had to keep moving from scene to scene, much like live theater, yet without any need to give fair trade to the people in the seats. We were interdependent, completely, absolutely. No one could work by himself. No one was superfluous. Not a one of us could stand around and drain the energy as happens on many film sets. There was no time to wander off literally or figuratively. Nearly everything was intentional, even our meals and rest. Another boon - no cell service. I did notice a couple of people going into town at night to check their messages or doing so from the house phone. Not me. I wanted nothing to do with the outside world or my regular life.
That's why movie stars have personal assitants - so they can devote themselves to the world of the work at hand. I'm sure that there are the corrupt actors that go in for the status and ego, but the intention is to allow the actor to get every molecule into their work, disregarding phone calls, dry cleaning, driving, etc.
There's a saying that urges us to walk with our feet on the ground and our heads in the clouds.
I feel as if I can do that after last weekend. I am humbled by the experience. The humility offered a lot of joy. The moments that I tensed up and got urgent sucked. Focusing on preserving harmony and openness minimized the sucky moments the few times they started to raise their ugly heads.
I am no longer afraid to let go of control.
I am good enough to let go.
I trust.

¡Viva!
Signroe Direttore

Made Crooked

http://madecrooked.blogspot.com/

By the by

Meditation works.

I just bought a bunch of that editing equipment and software online from B&H that I've been fretting over. Five grand.
That didn't make me feel better.

But a woo-woo chick whispering in my ears for fifteen minutes about emotional healing has me feeling alive head to toe.

I'll have to try it again when I get my American Express bill.

¡Viva!
Signore Direttore

Tears

I'm up very early this morning. Not feeling one hundred percent physically. And a bit anxious for the weekend. So many things to do. Yesterday I was hoping to get out of work after lunch and get some rest, but the preparation for the retreat went on until 9pm.
Lately I've been trying to adjust my attitudes and actions toward others in life and filmmaking. I've written at lenght about it here, at least it seems to me that I have. We're shooting this retreat this weekend. It's an expiremental exercise. I really don't know what the results are going to be. I've been very excited about aiming for the best work we can do collectively and viewing the results as evidence of our abilities. When I share my excitement with others, it seems there are more lessons to be learned. One actor sees it as my thing and he doesn't want to commit to it or acting at all anymore. The DP from my last film thinks I have written that project off. My boss reacts to the work we're doing to get ready for the weekend with some sort of sadness that I'm thinking might be that he's feeling left out.
It seems that however hard I try to be right-sized about this, I'm still a big dumb bull in a china shop.

I wrote the following to the DP of But A Dream this morning:

Greg

It seems like I've been sending some mixed signals about the short film we
did together.
I'm sorry about that. Sometimes I wish I was one of those guys that falls
in love with his own work and thinks he's the baddest mofo in town --
Next stop Hollywood!
I'm more of the tortured type that suffers over every project trying to
figure out how to get better as an artist and a communicator to my
collaborators and supporters.

I want to be clear about a few things. But A Dream is the best film I
have ever made. You are the best DP I have ever worked with. It's
beautiful. It sounds good. The acting is good. I don't want to say more
until it is cut, but I'm proud of what we accomplished together. Whenever
I show the footage to people they say, "Oh my god, who shot this?"

Telling you that it's the best film I have ever made scares me a bit. I
fear that you think it was kind of a hack job and if I admit it was my
best work, you'll think I'm a phony wannabe. So when i talk to you about
it, I downplay it all a bit to protect myself. To try to be one of the
cool kids.

When I talk about moving on to new projects I am really talking about
geting more time on set as a director. I think lack of experience on my
part was the cause of some of the poor communication between us on set.
Rather than play the blame game, which I tried for a couple of days as you
know, I think I would like to take what I have learned and put it to use
as soon as possible. I'm sorry if that came across as flippant disregard
for the work we did. Not at all my intention.

Before making that short together I wanted you and the other guys to think
I was some great director. That attitude put a lot of unnecessary
pressure on me. It took a lot of the fun of making films away. I did
that to myself. If I ever become a great director, it probably won't be
the result of trying so hard.
More and more, I'm ready for you guys to think I'm some indie guy that
makes freebie stuff you guys might not want anything to do with
professionally. I'll just go play with some gear from the shop and have
fun making movies. That's not a booby prize, it's actually really
exciting me. I've let go of letting that one project that's with Gersh
rule my life and my filmmaking ambitions. I've been writing new stuff
that I could make for no/low budgets and just going with it.
Letting go of the results. Making mistakes. Trying to stop
apologizing or making excuses about where I am at as a filmmaker.

Being part of Gearhead makes that even easier. Thanks for bringing me
into your company. And thanks again for letting me use your camera.

I'm sure we'll work together as director and dp again someday. When we
do, I want it to be a choice on both of our parts. I don't want it to be
about me trying to prove to you I've grown since our last experience nor
do I want you to do it simply as a favor to me. If that opportunity never
comes, it won't be because of a lack of respect or fondness for you, Greg.

Warm Regards,
Neal


Rereading it brings tears to my eyes. Hurts to admit that ego stuff. I'm not sure if reprinting it here is respectful to me or the recipient.
I don't know. Seems to be the thought of the day so far. And it's only 6am.
Rather than feeling hopeless about not knowing, I am going to try to embrace it.
Seems a good plan for retreating.

Like a big pizza pie,
Signore Direttore

Folk Wisdom 005

No matter how far you've gone down the wrong road, turn back.

Turkish proverb

Powerless

Researching some editing system equipment. It gives me a headache. Gear. Gear. Gear.
I realy just want to tell stories as a writer and director. Editing is a huge part of filmmaking and I've done a fair bit of it. What I'm always left with it the urge to reshoot or come up with a new project.
I worked as part of team that cut a feature called Evergreen. The film had its moments as well as its problems. It made it to into the Sundance Competition and had a limited release. Anyway the editor, our leader and teacher, was Meg Reticker. She's cut some good stuff, Heavy, Wet Hot American Summer, Decade Under the Influence, and is a really awesome person. After working with me for six weeks, she discouraged my further pursuit of editing as a career. Not for reasons of incompetence, but more because of temperament. (Which was pretty arrogant and ugly in retrospect) You're a director, she said.
Several unfinished projects later - I'm left with facing the editing phase of filmmaking. Melissa Henderson is on deck to cut But A Dream. Originally we were to go to Downstream and do an offline on the Avid. That was going to cost $500 for two eight hour sessions. She has agreed to cut on my system provided I am patient with her adapting to Final Cut Pro. I'm not as proficient on FCP as I once was, but I'm sure between the two of us we'll be fine.
As for FCP. I started cutting on it when it first came out and crashed every two or three minutes. Boy that was fun. Still it was awesome to have the tools to learn how to cut movies in a spare bedroom. I've never purchased a copy of FCP through it's several versions. I started on 1.2.5, switched to 2 then 3. We cut Evergreen on 3. 4 came out, but I was deep into the rewriting of Original Glory as well as trying to figure out how to write a good short script. I got 4.5 last year from someone and 5 just recently. FCP 5 burn that I got doens't have hte supporting discs and therefore is not loading. I ditched FCP 4.5 HD before trying to load 5. I am now void of Final Cut Pro on my machine for the first time in six years.
I'm thinking it might be time to actually buy it. It's the right thing to do. But somehow I feel like a fool.
Then there's the whole RAID, SATA, Firewire question. TetraGiga - ugh.
And Capture Cards.
And HD.
I spent hours on the net this am looking up reviews and user group info on this crap.
What I would rather do is write the scene I've been researching. And direct it.
After I direct it, I will want to direct another. I get that taste. Sitting in front of the editing station makes me want to get back on set.
Meg was right.
However, I am going to have to start finishing films.
Is there a 12 step group for this?
Step 1 - We admitted we were powerless over our films that had been shot and that our reels had become unmanagable.

Debolemente,
Signore Direttore

Bravo

Watched Close to Home last night. Guest star Zach Sherman played a pivotal witness in a murder case with more twists than a bag of pretzels. TV is ridiculous. Anyway. Zach did a very nice job. He was very present and alive. He looked great. Physical life was good - very odd walk to the witness stand. His voice quivered, but that seemed part of the characterization. (I have heard this phlegmy quiver many times in him and have wondered how strong his voice is. We all need voice work that's for certain.)

I haven't seen Zach in a year. So it was odd seeing him on the tele. Looking forward to seeing him in person this week. Rumor has it he'll not only be in town, but will be attending class.

Thanks for making us proud, Zach.

Ciao,
Signore Direttore

The Master Says 028

Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion.

Jack Kerouac

Letting Glue

Today was another long day. I didn't work as hard at the hard work I accomplished.

I have some good folks in my life.

Grazie,
Signore Direttore

Unglued

So many things coming at me. Overwhelmed. All day long. People call me and email me with demands, questions. When not standing to that barrage, there's the face to face stuff. My three children. My boss. Employees. Students. Collaborators. Contractors. Tenants. Last but not least - Spouse.
Tuesdays are hellish. Too long of a day.

I'm working on this duet. I've mentioned it before. We played it by ear the other day. Then I got the chord structure from a friend. Last night I met with my partner. He dug right in and played. I was not feeling it. Reluctantly I suggested taking it one time through. It sucked. I was trying to let it suck, but I could not even manage a coherent lack of connection. I experienced something that I have when singing karaoke - it's hard to be really good and it's hard ot be really bad. Mostly I land in this beige-gray middle. H suggested making it my own. Actually, he said he tries to make it his own when he's playing a cover, which he's been doing a great job of with Sister Morphine. Admittedly, I was trying to channel Mick Jagger. Somewhat unlikely. We tried it again. This time I listened more closely. And I made an effort to sing the notes from the page. I let go of my intellectual idea of what A minor or D sounds like and sang a A minors and D as I heard them. Doing that helped me not only hear the notes H was playing, it made it a lot easier to come in on the note. Most importantly, it allowed me to make it my own. I had tears in my eyes by the time we were through. Not weepy ones. Just leaks of bottled up ick from trudging through one hell of a day and putting it into some work. Revealing myself as Cassavetes urges.

Michael Caine is sounding in my ears. If you're working too hard, you're not doing it right.
I'm going to try not to work so hard today.

Viva,
Signore Direttore

The Master Says 027

The most difficult thing in the world is to reveal yourself, to express what you have to. As an artist, I feel that we must try many things - but above all we must dare to fail. You must be willing to risk everything to really express it all.

John Cassavetes

TeleBizshun

Zach Sherman will be guest starring Friday night at 9pm on Close to Home - whatever network that's on.

Zach is a very talented collaborator, friend and former student.

it is no small tragedy that his great comedic genius continues to go unrecognized by casting agents.

A River Dertchee,
Signore DIrettore

Good News

I emailed Cam Archer to let him know how much I loved Wild Tigers I Have Known.
He responded, letting me know it will be released this fall.

Ciao,
Signore Direttore

It Didn't Kill Me

Saw Cam Archer's Wild Tigers I Have Known at the PDX Fest last night. It blew me away. I was tired and certainly had some fidgets, but what a mindblower. I liked it so much. I found so much emotional truth in it. So many memories. Nick Peterson was there and I ran down to chat as soon as the lights came up. Though it was more stylized than Nick might usually go for, I had the feeling he would share my love for the film . I was right -- he loved it as much as I. Nick said the film made him feel as if his films were but technical exercises. He mentioned relating to the exact things I did, one of which was the phone calls. I'm not going to say more, you should find a way to see theis film. An unexpected turn was the body graffiti IT DIDN'T KILL ME.
So so so much in that.
This morning I rehearsed a song with someone. We're preparing a duet of Sister Morphine as a lark. I am not a singer. Nor am I a guitar player. My partner is and it was immediately obvious he thought I was bringing more to the table than I am. He was patient as we found a way to strum chords and alternate lines, coming together as we felt it. So cool. I let myself use what limited skills I have. I trusted it would be good enough. Of course it was. It was not good in a way that I'm thinking of charging admission. But I can tell you this:
It didn't kill me.

Only one thing will and that's not for me to determine.

Viva,
Signore Direttore

Full Circle

Another Spring and another script from the author of High Desert Psalmist. The synopsis he handed to me a week ago didn't grab me. Someone told me the script was worth a read. I found out what the writer wanted from me prior to reading it. I sensed he had learned some things since our last attempt to work together, so I agreed to read his latest.
If your eyes move side to side as you scan the page as they do when reading a book - it's no good. A screenplay is not a novel. Its non-prose format is not arbitrary. The form serves the medium as a blueprint for film construction. The beats are articulated in a certain manner. Dialogue is concentrated. The white of the page offers the subtext its unwritten place on the page. Visualization occurs as the eyes fly down the center of the page. Turning page after page, scene after scene. One flowing into the next.
I can get through a well written script of 120 pages in 45 minutes. I spent an hour and a half on this 111 pager and didn't make it to the third act. The second act started on page three. Its dozens of pages went on and on, going only to places I've seen before. Places that weren't that interesting the first time around. Situations to which I do not connect. Stories that I do not want to tell.
I really like this guy. I would love to work with him, both for the experience and to give him the opportunity to see his words come to life. But for me, the words have to come off the page. If ain't on the page, it ain't gonna be on the screen. Liking someone or wanting to be part of a film getting made doesn't a good screenplay make.
I'm going to have to pass on this one.
Oh well.

Lastima,
Signore Direttore

Practice

I've been practicing the following:

Thinking about film and seeing films critically without being a critic. Rather I am seeking to advance my own understanding of the art form as well as my own process.

Allowing myself to dislike films without indicting the filmmaker.

Trusting the generosity of audiences without judgment.

Allowing whatever happens to inform my experience of the here and now.

Being gentle.

Asking for help.

Accepting help.

Admitting that I am wrong.

Believing stones can float.

Letting go.

Gratitude.

Buona Sera,
Signore Direttore

Matt's Manifesto

"This is not the entertainment industry," it reads, but "folk art for a high tech society" that represents "a small victory over the monopoly that Hollywood and the corporate media have on our culture. . . THIS IS THE INTERNATIONAL CINEMATIC UNDERGROUND."

Matt McCormick

You Are My Sunshine

There's a magic thing that happens when people get together. I mean really get together. I've been hanging around all kinds of people in all kinds of places for many years and remained very alone.
Suppose I was protecting myself. In some cases I was protecting others from me. Over time, more so recently, I've been letting the armor fall away bit by bit. It certainly is a vulnerable thing. I scare others. Especially when I myself am scared. Which I am when I strip away the things I have relied upon for protection.
I am intense. My mind moves very fast. Way way way ahead of my mouth. My mouth tries to keep up. Frustration. Don't yell, keep talking. It will come out. This will take practice. People tell me that though they trust I won't be violent, they feel as if they're in danger of being hit.
For many years I did exactly that - lashed out verbally and physically. Worse yet, I ran away or rejected. I was often like an animal.
Raw. Intense. Unpredictable.
It drew people to me. It scared them away. It excited people. It hurt people.
Though I keep my hands to myself and my voice moderate more often than not, this thing is still present.
This came up with a friend yesterday morning. I tried to own my behavior while acknowleding the progress I've made.
Last night one of my students said this to me, "You're our teacher. We look up to you for your wisdom and your experience. We don't understand that you might suffer from any self-doubt or inadequacy when we put ourselves in your hands. I've seen you struggle. I've wondered if we were on the same side at times. But I've trusted and we've always come through in ways that have been intensely rewarding and exciting."
I asked him if it that type of intensity is not present in any project that's worthwhile.
He simply said, "No, not really."
That really went to my core. I refrained from judging the merits of the many projects on his resume. Something I would have done in the past to protect myself. Instead I accepted what he said almost as simply as he said "No, not really."
"You remember when you said to me, and you were joking, but as with all jests there's truth in it - This thing is going to go a lot better if you can read my mind." I recall saying it in an attempt to make light of the tendency I have to get ahead of myself. To assume others are with me. Or even ahead of me. I don't give myself credit. I'm waiting for someone to call me an idiot at every turn. I feel like I'm playing catch up. Getting left behind. I rush to keep pace, leaving others in my wake. In trying to catch up, I pass them by.
This kind of stuff is tough to admit. Tough to face. It would be nice to ignore it. To excuse my intensity as an artist's temperament. To point fingers. To avoid. To go to extremes. Rash judgments. Move to Mexico.
Speaking of the land so far from God and so close to the United States: I ran into an an old friend last night. He told me the letter I sent to him from Mexico in 1995 broke his heart. I didn't remember the letter. He said, "You don't remember. Do you remember living in Mexico?" Of course I remember living in Mexico. What do you think? That I'm some kind of idiot? (Oh, by the way - Here we go again.) Apparently the letter I wrote informed him I wasn't coming back, that I was going in a new direction. That I wished him the best in finding a new mentor. "It ripped my heart out. You had the light in you and you turned it out."
You know, the turn I took in Mexico was very selfish. Extremely so. Me, me, me. Yo, yo, yo.
I'm coming around to the light. I am showing up in places where I meet my old friend Mark. People who knew me when. I'm listening when H reminds me to allow others into my process. To be gentle. I'm listening when D tells me my authoritative presence is overwhelming. That I've changed but I'm not in the clear.
There's no place to run. No place to hide.
Might as well come out into the sunshine.

Grazie,
Signore Direttore

Stracco

I'm seventy or so hours of work into this week and Friday is just getting started. I'm working Saturday morning as well. That's about fifty Gearhead hours so far, five teaching acting, two in meetings, three in screenings, eight writing and two coaching tee ball.
I'm feeling restless, irritable and discontent.
My brow is knit. My back is hunched.
I saw this woman on the set of a music video this morning that I used to spend a lot of time with in NYC circa 1997. I really hope she is up from LA for this thing and not living in town working in the same sphere as I.
I'm looking for a day to take off from Gearhead next week. I've been riding my bike(s) this week. The retreat is coming up. And a family trip to Bend to see Beck and stay in a condo up at Mt. Bachelor for the long holiday weekend.
I'm reading Sometimes a Great Notion. I'm happy about that.
What it really comes down to is that I'm very tired. I need some rest. Until I can manage that, I'll have to take it easy on myself and others.

Ciao,
Signore Direttore

Circumstantial Evidence

The other day I wrote of suspiscions regarding a colleaugue's interst in working with me. Today that friend is in town. We had breakfast. It was great to see him. There was no need for me to even bring up my allegations, because they are in my head. Unsubstantiated reactions to a change in circumstances.
My mother died from a gunshot wound to the head. At the time, her sisters and her paramour strongly believed my stepfather was the shooter. Eleven detectives and two FBI agents investigated the case for six months. My step-father was interrogated but never arrested. Nothing more than circumstantial evidence was uncovered. The Distict Attorney would not accept the case because of the lack of hard evidence.
I'm not drawing any conclusions here. Just saying what comes to mind.
I am, however, drawn to the idea that my willingness to make a case for the injustices I suffer in every day life is born out of an inner need to solve the big mystery of my mother's death. Intellectually I say I have let go of the answer. Perhaps that is not entirely true.
I honestly do not know.
Again, more will be revealed.

Pasta and Bagels,
Signore Direttore

Yesterday ...

... all my troubles seemed not all far away.
Started the day without hearing from any of the players I sent emails to regarding an upcoming collaborative project. Next I met with a payroll accountant and discovered that I'm paying 80% of my Gearhead wages to our nanny and my new assistant. Since both do tasks that are far from thankless - taking care of my children and my projects - I am posed with a bit of a conflict. I had to eat lunch on the fly out at Freightliner dealing with an electrical issue with one of the Gearhead trucks - so no lunch writing happened yesterday. Then because that fiasco took four hours out of my day I had to go back to Gearhead after teaching class. So as I'm all stacked up -- overworked and overextended -- I get four phone calls in the two hours before class letting me know that I will have four students without their scene partners in class. In spite of reasonable and understandable excuses for missing class, whenever such a mass absence coincidence occurs I get a bit skittish. I begin to question the commitments of actors. Whether or not I should bother trying to keep the studio going ... blah blah bleck What's worse is that as I write, I often do so for actors I know. When the actors in class, the actors I work with most regularly, demonstrate what I percieve as a lack of commitment, I feel threatened. A good example is a student commited to the retreat next month has a job as a receptionist at a hair salon. They may not grant her the time off, even with a month's notice. If this young actor is commited to acting, why is the crappo job the subject of so much of our correspondence? Next I got an email form the guy that's been fucking around with me for a year regarding the sound for London Calling telling me he is leaving for a job until September.
In this state of mind, I am not at ease. Focusing on the negative begets more of the same. Soon I was focusing on the fact that since I told MC of my humility regarding the direction of OG, I seldom hear from him. Whereas I heard from him every few days prior to my admission. I quickly had a lot of judgments of him running through my mind.
So I worked until two am at Gearhead after teaching class. That made it a nice and long eighteen hour day. At the end of it and at the beginning of today - I tell myself this: The only thing left for me to do is do the next right thing. I can't figure it all out. I can only do the work ahead of me. Which is not as complicated or as difficult as the bullshit above. It's a lot more seductive to focus on the negative. Perhaps with practice, focusing on the work becomes more habitual. I know this to be true. Because even a short time ago, I was unable to access anything but the occasional inspiration inorder to work at all.

This too shall pass.

Ciao,
Signore Direttore

(Movie) Folk Wisdom 005

A successful movie is only ever about two things: the script and the cast.

Un Poem 002

it seems a terrible way to live:
wanting someone to listen to
other than the voices in my head
too scared to tell them to shut it
afraid no one else
will have a thing to say

i stopped looking at my shoes for once
and raised my eyes to the stars
on a clear cold night in the woods
they were up there shining bright
as they always are

if only i raised my eyes more often
maybe the voices in my head
would stop bickering
about the nonsense i rely upon
to feel in control

Folk Wisdom 004

Consider the work of God;
  who can make straight what he has made crooked?

Ecclesiastes 7:13 (RSV)

No More Yucky Stuff

Tonight we were watching Six Feet Under Season 4, the one where David gets abducted by the crackhead. I love SFU, but I was really not into that episode. I said aloud, what's Claire doing? Let's go find Claire or Mother Fisher. I wanted to get back to the stories and their characters.
Last weekend I felt similar feelings watching a film at Longbaugh. There was a rape scene and a couple of other desperate sex scenes. I didn't like them. I felt exploited along with the actors.
I'm outlining yet another screenplay this week. It was on a course to be a noirish thriller, but I quickly reined it back to something exploring the characters' deepest needs and the ways they try and fail to get them met. I suppose the better films noir do the same. That's not where mine was headed.
It feels better. Not in any moralistic way, it's just something I can connect to and would want to watch.
It's both more challenging and yet easier to accomplish. Probably because discovering what is kind and loving in me is closer to me than icky stuff.

To the discovery of to thine ownself be true ... huzzah!

Nighty-night,
Signore Direttore

Folk Wisdom 003

Life is a mystery to be lived not a problem to be solved.

The Master Says 026

We cannot change anything unless we accept it. Condemnation does not liberate, it oppresses.


Carl Jung

Spring Cleaning

Last Fall was a busy time for me - moving house, starting a day job, teaching, final rewrites of Original Glory and having our third child. So when we moved, my office was the last priority. It was tossed into a forgotten bedroom downstairs and ransacked over the past few months when something was needed. But today, oh glorious seventy degrees and sunny with the cherry blossoms in full bloom day that it was, my office was put in order. The editing suite is up and running.
My new assistant Jordan Karr-Morse started today. I think we'll be doing great things together in the coming months. He's a very talented DOP, as they call cinematographers in Britain where he was trained and has been working. Even if the greatness extends only to finishing some long-neglected unfinished short films, we'll be well ahead of the current status quo of dusty tapes.
One of the things Jordan is scheduled to assist me with is the Spring Actors Retreat taking place next month. We've rented a lodge up at Mount Hood and will be going up there to rehearse and shoot some scenes. The group commited to go is a dedicated and talented bunch. I'm sure we'll learn a bit and have a swell time in the mountain air.

I really love seeing all the cherry blossoms, especially the heavy, dark pink ones.

Ciao,
Signore Direttore

Pop Quiz 2006

1. Would you know a great script if you read it?

Yes. However I am often eager to be generous and therefore forego asking some tough questions of scripts. I'm learning more about identifying story structure.

2. Have you ever raised money for a dream?

Yes. Moreover I have earned huge amounts of money on events that I created based on nothing more than personal taste.

3. Can you make people believe in you?

Yes.

4. Are you anal and meticulous?

God yes.

5. Is saying no easy for you?

Not consistently or cleanly. I'm working on it.

6. Are you ready for an emotional marathon?

No. I'm working on it. I can say that I am improving significantly in regards to not adding unnecessary drama to stressful situations.

7. Are you really creative?

Yes. It's tough to acknowledge that without some humility or self-doubt.

Gun :: Briefcase

All you need to make a film is a girl and a gun.
- Godard

You can steal more money with a briefcase than you can with a gun.
- My father

All you need to make a film is a briefcase and a miscreant for a father.
- Me

Grazie

Today marks the one year anniversary of this weblog. I can not adequately express the importance of maintaining a public record of the process of the tremendous growth and change in my professional and personal lives, which are inextricable.
There are a number of people that I have had the privilege of having in my life this past year. I will try to remember them all.
I want to especially thank David Millstone for inpsiring me to get this started and for his dedicated blogging and readership.

My wife Nicola
Henry
Maisie
June
Dave Hansen
Philip Kenney
Zach Sherman
Michael Cassidy
Andrew Dickson
All of the wonderful actor-students I have the honor to have in the studio
Steve Doughton
The cast and crew of London Calling
Derek - High Desert Psalmist
Joey Boyd
Greg Schmitt
Joel Stirnkorb
Peter Kahn
Zach Mortensen
Tommy Pallotta
Heath Lourwood
Greg Foley
Travis Huntington
The cast and crew of Uncle Tom's Apartment
David Walker
Ryan Artists
Jeffery Hasseler
Lounne Moldovan
Beth
Chris Hornbecker
Jack Dahl
The cast and crew of The Color of Ambition
Robert Hicks
Gearhead Studio Rentals
Michael / Koerner Camera
The anonymous Finding Fellini readers
The Gersh Agency
Larry T
Sandra L
Jim Barrett
East Side Sunrise
Book Review
Neil Kopp
Simon Max Hill
The cast and crew of But A Dream
The cast and crew of Pretty
Nick Peterson
Shawn Sundby
Dennis Brenhaug
Peripheral Produce
The Masters
and
Federico Fellini

I could not have done it without you.

Thank you, thank you, thank you ...
Neal A. Corl
Signore Direttore

The Master Says 001 - Anniversary Reprise

There is no beginning. There is no end.
There is only the infinite passion of life.

Federico Fellini

Living the Dream

Today I got to do something quite profound on my lunch hour. I picked Henry up from Kindergarten and took him to a sporting goods store to buy him a baseball glove. I got one for myself as well. We had lunch after that.

Perfect,
nc

The Master Says 025

We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another, unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.


Anais Nin

Tug of War

I'm wondering as I sit and ponder the idea of getting pulled in one direction by the Kazan quote immediately below and in quite an opposite direction in the opinions of the last crew I worked with. I don't think it comes down to absolutes. That's a new idea. Nor do I think I am as far removed from the violent struggle suggested by the title of today's entry as I would like to think I am. It would be quite foolish for me to think that I will soon be in harmony with a crew, that I will magically surround myself with sycophants. Yet I think it worthwhile to pursue a balance of preparation and sensitivity to schedule, while retaining the integrity of the director's primary task.
I'm tempted to start throwing the Kazan quote around the gaffers, grips and cameramen with whom I routinely work. I'm quite certain it would be anything but an invitation to discuss the virtues of taking one's time on set and feeling your way through subtle material.
They admitted to me that they had never worked with actors that got better as more takes were shot. In the commercial world, the first take or two is all you get before the actor has nothing left and starts pushing it out. I've seen this to be the case with inadequately trained actors. Even with that admission of seeing the actors go deeper under my direction, they remain convinced that I worked very inefficiently. I have to admit that it stings. I'm being careful of jumping entirely over to their way of thinking. Doing so would drain much of the life from the work. However, understanding that keeping the crew behind you through respecting the limits of thier patience, particularly when they are not getting paid, is essential to building a career as a filmmaker. In any case, I could certainly sharpen my previsualization, shot planning and set communication skills.
Stumbling across the Kazan quote the other day got me thinking in terms of vindication. I don't really need to be vindicated. Though I must admit that I really would like everyone to get together and love the hell out of me, praising my genius and hailing my body of work.
Back to the metaphor of this entry's title -- I'm not letting go of either side of the rope, I'm trying to let go of being the rope.

Ciao,
Signore Direttore

The Master Says 024

A good director's not sure when he gets on the set what he's going to do.


Elia Kazan

Sycophant No More

The quotes below seem to contradict one another, at least for many years I heard their polarity. I think it is quite clear that there are distinct differences between a Cassavetes film and a Hitchcock film. Especially in the manner in which they were concieved and produced.
The danger with Cassavetes for me is much the same as with Mamet's manifestoes -- their iconoclastic bombasts prompt sycophantic behavior in me. Remember, I'm trying to leave the purist box unchecked.
Fact is, I love movies from both directors. I learn and am entertained by both. (In spite of JC's proclamation that he doesn't seek to entertain.) They were true to themselves in the making of their films. Hitch was neurotic and needed order. He found the yellow of eggs creepy and the red of blood comforting. John was a narcissistic drunk and needed chaos in which to justify himself. (I wish I knew something about him like the eggs/blood thing to keep this parallel sentence structure going. Oh well.)
In any case, I love their films precisely because they adhere so strongly to their own point of view.
What is my point of view?
More will be revealed.


On the path,
Signore Direttore

The Master Says 024

I'm full of fears and I do my best to avoid difficulties and any kind of complications. I like everything around me to be clear as crystal and completely calm.


Alfred Hitchcock

The Master Says 023

All my life I've fought against clarity -all those stupid definitive answers. Phooey on a formula life, on slick solutions. It's never easy. I think it's only in the movies that it's easy ... I won't call (my work) entertainment. It's exploring. It's asking a lot of questions of people ... A good movie will ask you questions you haven't been asked before.


John Cassavetes

Pendleton

Originally uploaded by Signore Direttore.

Primary Location

Folk Wisdom 002

When they take your smile away they might just as well shoot you.


Violet Hensley

The Master Says 023

I didn't have that much confidence. Maybe it looks that way. I'm glad it does.
Elia Kazan

Checking the Box

Over the past few weeks I've been trudging through a swamp of truths about myself and my abilities. It's been a taxing, though rewarding journey. I've given up some old ideas about myself and have therefore made room for some new approaches. As I've blogged, I've had to be careful not to fill in the blanks too quickly. While I can't say I have the patience of a saint, I have kept my eyes open as much as possible. I certainly haven't needed to completely reinvent myself. I have done a tremendous amount of work over the years and I have talent to be sure. Letting go of expectations and of waiting for others to legitimize my talent has actually helped me see my strengths more clearly. In fact the weaknesses that were so glaring to me a few weeks ago feel more like exciting challenges than sources of shame at this point.
I was listening to James Mangold speak about the beginnings of his career recently. He asserted that you can't wait for someone to tell you you're ready or that it's time. That call won't come, he says from experience. You have to write the film you want to make. If you write a film that is too expensive for an inexperienced director to obtain financing for, write another film. He was talking about genre pictures heavy on special effects primarily, however this is the trap in which I've been falling for years regarding Original Glory. I've actually complained many times as I've had the script accepted to prestigous markets and optioned by a production company that it's too bad I wrote this one first.
Boo hoo. Poor me that I wrote a story that I believed in and in turn inpired others to believe in enough to take a self-taught writer and help him develop the script, teach him about dramatic stroytelling and the business of making movies in the process and pay me for it. What a goddamn bummer. Bet you feel really sorry for me.
In realizing and admitting that I may not currently have the necessary experience to direct Original Glory, did I make it clear that Original Glory is the first complete screenplay that I've written, I have become willing and ready to write my second completed screenplay. Back when I finshed the first final draft of OG, I optioned a book to adapt, I signed a contract with a producer to adapt a novel he'd optioned, et cetera. I was ready! Then I learned what is meant by the koan that screenwriting is rewriting. That's when the producers at Ghost Robot, namely Zach Mortensen, took me to (re)writing school. All those other writing plans were put on hold. Thankfully, because I re-invented the wheel with Original Glory. To my credit, I wrote about what I knew and some amazing characters emerged. But I didn't know a thing about structure. Initially I took those notes with scornful scoffs. But when you hear the same thing from people making a living in the industry over and over again, it tends to break down the denial that you're a dyed in the wool genius. Gradually, over the span of years, I became teachable.
I've written over fifty drafts of Original Glory, not including somewhere around a hundred revised drafts. All the while I started a dozen screenplays. Do you think I started those screenplays any differently than I started OG back in '98? Hell no. I'm sure one of the reasons that not a one has written itself is a subsconscious fear that it will require the same amount of work as Original Glory. If I grafted ideas about events and people onto an arbitrary armature as I did with OG, it's likely that I would have to write fifty drafts again. If I were lucky.
There's a better way. There is more than one better way. Start earlier with the structure. From the beginning. Baby steps. Check the box as you complete each one. Follow directions. Ugh.
Don't you know who I am?
Here's what I'm doing differently:
Week 1
Day 1 - Write the title. That's it. Stop. Done for the day.
Day 2 - Write the theme. Do my best. Write a few. Be wrong. Trust the process.
Day 3 - Write the logline. Starting to get harder. I have it my head what I want to write about. Why can't I just start writing? Hard to stay with this part. But I wrote something that I could get me through to the next day.
Day 4 - Write the treatment. I wrote the beginning and the end as instructed. The logline was bothering me. Maybe because I didn't know whose story it was. I wanted it to be about the dad, because he is the one transformed in the end. I went back to the logline and reworked it. The process forced me to understand whose story it is.
Day 5 - Still working on the logline. Something is not quite right. I talk it out with a trusted colleague. Got it.
Day 6 - Rest and reflect.
Day 7 - Outline the middle of the treatment. Go back and read the plan of action. Something about five pairs of uh oh's and oh shits and two oh my gods in every good movie. Resistance to this was strong. Fucking formulaic bullshit ... So I tried it. It was hard. I mapped it out. I deleted, cut and pasted, rewrote for a long while. I labored. Guess what? It helped me develop the tension, the rhythm and the structure. The story is not more formulaic as a result -- it's stronger. I better understand where we (the characters and I) need to go.
All the while during Week 1, I was telling the story to myself and others. Trying out the logline. Suffering blank looks. Fighting the urge to type FADE IN:
I took a class a long time ago that asserted typing FADE IN: was the first thing to do when starting a screenplay. I wholeheartedly disagree.
Week 2
Day 1 - Finish the treatment. Several prose pages amassed under my flying fingers in a very short time last night. Maybe this following directions crap works.
Day 2 - Write an outline. I'll get to it at lunch.

I tell actor-students to get off the fence about whether they're an actor or not. Check the box, I tell them.
I'm checking the box today.
Screenwriter - check.
Director - check.
Hyphenate - check.
Purist - it's hard, but I'm going to leave this box unchecked for now.

A River Dertch,
Signore Direttore

First Ladies of Cinema

Jules et Jim
Originally uploaded by Signore Direttore.

Jeanne Moreau

First Ladies of Cinema

Hanna Schygulla
Originally uploaded by Signore Direttore.

Hanna Schygulla

First Ladies of Cinema

Monica Vitti
Originally uploaded by Signore Direttore.

Monica Vitti

First Ladies of Cinema

Isabelle Huppert
Originally uploaded by Signore Direttore.

Isabelle Huppert

First Ladies of Cinema

Maggie Cheung
Originally uploaded by Signore Direttore.

Maggie Cheung

The Master Says 022

Many of us achieve only the semblance of communication with others; what we say is often not contingent on what the other has just said, and neither of us is aware that we are not communicating.

Desy Safan-Gerard

The Master Says 021

The poem is a little myth of man's capacity of making life meaningful. And in the end, the poem is not a thing we see --i t is, rather, a light by which we may see -- and what we see is life.

Robert Penn Warren

Un poem 001

dear juanita

i
from you
all the things that the letter said were true
it was over we could both so clearly see
you from
me

in a car
driving through chicago in the hazy summer
i remembered those yellow bicycles
in sacramento and milan
where the wedding pictures were taken and
left in the bottom drawer of a desk under the window
you told me to jump out of one morning
i wasn't awake

pale yellow mercedes
one hundred and eighty kilometers per hour
falling asleep at the wheel
talking about abraham lincoln
explaining him to you
how fucking strange
that someone didn't know who he was

you disappeared
when i found you in a cafe
quietly flirting
with the entire room
you laughed at me
for worrying
i got you back
in the shower
before you moved in with the priest

and before you fucked shelby
he told me one morning
in a sacramento dive bar
the last city in which i ever saw
either of you
unlikely sister cities
milan and sacramento
i was living in san francisco
stole a car one night
a convertible
1965 Buick Special
white with a red interior
needed somewhere to go

your mother told me, allesandra
she needa college
no marry my allesandra
she needa college
she said that over
and over
while you were upstairs
with your little sister

it was seven am
hadn't seen him since milan
he called when he moved
back to the states
he called here the states
such the expatriate male model
that shelby
he said he would look me up sometime
but i looked him up first
at seven am
in a stolen car

i went running in naples
after we drove down from milan
to meet your family
she needa college
she needa college
running through my brain
running through your filthy naples
the shower was great
until rebecca reached inside the curtain
and let go of
that bird

i took him downtown
and made him
drink wild turkey
he told me he knew
about the bird in the shower
he asked me if i knew
about you two
he said he was sorry
but that he couldn't
help himself
you were so
beautiful

birds make greek boys like me
panic
too many omens --
aunt catherine
athens 1974
so many candles
i got scared
her wrist i pulled
into the shower
the bird flying around
her clothes wet
they came undone
and i
and she
and the bird

i could tell
that you were the
absolute conquest
of his life
we went swimming
in his pool later that morning
i asked him if he ever met
your little sister
he said no
then you don't know
about the bird in the shower
now do you?

it was so clever
the way you returned
my letter to me
crossing out your name
at the top
replacing it with mine
alex
the name that you gave me
your father showed me what you
wrote in the margins of his
dictionary
when you were
a little girl

crossing out my name
at the bottom
and writing yours
juanita
the name you gave yourself
in its place
i especially admired
the lack of a post-script
neat and clean, no fuss
that was you
juanita: god's gift to men
just like it says
in your papa's
dizionario

Thoughts on a Friday Night

Watched Thumbsucker and Belle Epoque tonight. Belle Epoque is a sexy farce, Spanish, not so great. Thought Thumbsucker was pretty good. It was relatively dismissed by critics. I certainly didn't find it riveting, but the acting was pretty good. Low key and truthful. I know a lot of people that worked on it. Which isn't that big of a deal. I normally read the credits of any film I see, recognizing names from other films or even a friend now and again. But I know about twenty of the folks that worked on that one.
What else?
Designed a t-shirt for the acting studio.
Fantasized about shooting this Rope-esque film on 35mm. Three takes for a ninety minute film at .42 a foot for recans of Fuji works out to about ten grand for film stock. Not in the cards right now.
Had a long chat with David about Pendleton. (Which isn't Rope-esque at all) That was encouraging and exciting.
Someone sent me a manifesto of sorts regarding making low budget films as we were about to go to lunch. I brought it along and checked our ideas against it. It made a good point for shooting on film and using name actors. However I asserted that we didn't have to follow that because we're not trying to break into Hollywood with this film. We're making a film to get better at something we love doing. We don't plan on making our money back. What a relief.
Painted the interior of our front door just a few minutes ago. When my wife used to work in Japan every couple of months I would stay up and rearrange our loft in NY. Henry would wake up to a new environment, sometimes not so happily. The first time I ate mushrooms I experienced that when Dan Eccles's step-sister came into the room and moved a guitar. "Put it back! Put it back, now." We used the word tangent a lot that night.
Cancelled my rough cut session tommorow with Melissa Henderson, the editor, because I didn't have time to adequately prepare. It's not like me to refrain from pushing for something. I'm really trying to take it easy. Aside from painting the door (which really wasn't that difficult) I've done exactly that today.
Tomorrow I'm going to put a little time in at the studio, but lounging as much as possible this weekend is the plan.
I belong to a fellowhip that proclaims, We relax and take it easy. For the longest time I thought that was some lazy bullshit. Lately, I'm starting to get the hint.

Buona sera,
nc

Pendleton

Determined to connect with his long lost father, Clay follows the bitter man to the Old West town of Pendleton where an unexpected inheritance puts the power of redemption in his hands.

Logline for a new screenplay

Monday Monday

Beautiful Spring morning here in Portland. Came to work with a spring in my step and gratitude in my heart for all things big and small in my life. Now that I'm here, it's not quite as sunny in my heart. Negative perspectives are simply attitudes I slip into, so slipping out of them is possible and increasingly accessible.
I had a lovely weekend going to Home Depot, hanging with the family and friends -- some visiting from NYC -- and doing my taxes. My wife makes loads of money, especially since she works three days a week on average, and spends little. I make little, spend loads and consume countless hours doing so.
I don't really like looking at the black and white figures on the page representing my attempts to forge a career as a filmmaker. Those big numbers spent on film and equipment and so forth seem almost vain and certainly imbalanced.
However, I do love making movies. As I've been processing my latest experience, I've come to discover various things about my directing, the types of crews I want to work with and my responsiblities as a filmmaker. I've discovered that I need more experience in various areas in order to make my films more even and accomplished. I've admitted to myself that it is less a matter of showing what I can do given the opportunity and more about creating opportunities for myself to continue my growth as a director. That said, I am not as blindly confident that I am the right person to direct Original Glory. Much remains to be revealed and I must be patient with myself and the process that I am commited to, which is that I am a filmmaker and that the next right thing is the the thing to do.
At this point I am attached to direct Original Glory. It remains in very nascent stages of development (even after all these years!) Nonetheless, the small cadre of its supporters are waiting to see But A Dream before sending OG out into the world with me atached to direct. Original Glory is the same kind of story as a Sideways or a Hustle & Flow in that it is not a blockbuster in waiting. Those scripts made the rounds in Hollyweird for a couple of years until a commited producer signed on and doggedly pursued funding. So it is possible that I could continue making digital films to gain the experience necessary to have a better shot of helming OG successfully while we take meetings and collect "no's" over the next year or two.
Where I get a bit frightened is that while all this, to whatever extent all this reveals itself to be, is going down I must maintain my day job and my family life. A big task, but with patience and taking it as it comes, entirely possible. It's that taking it as it comes thing that is frightening. Getting ahead of myself has been a persistent problem, one I'm trying to face quite frontally at present. I wonder if I can maintain an attitude of discovery in my filmmaking while taking meetings with the powers that be. Can I project an attitude of competence without compromising my fragile sense of accepting myself as being right where I'm supposed to be?
In the meantime, I have several ideas popping up for films long and short. Without the silly idea that the next film I make is going to be the one, I might just allow myself to have a little fun while I spend much more than I earn. And since the work won't have such high expaectations on it, perhaps I'll allow myself to use digital video and save (quite) a few bucks.
I got to admit I want to know how it's all going to turn out.
But I already know: exactly how it's supposed to.

Humbly,
Signore Direttore

TGIF

It hasn't been a particularly involved week - no big events or stresses. A lot has been going on - very full. One of the things I'm becoming aware of is that being the type of father that goes to school conferences and baseball practices as well as games puts a huge demand on my time. I'm all too happy to be present in my children's lives - it is a privilege.
It does require some adjustments. Last night I had to go to bed at 8:45 pm. I had nothing left for watching a film or reading, let alone writing or editing.
I hired two assistants this week. One for Gearhead - a talented young woman with a background in art direction and a degree from Brooks. She escaped LA and sought a part-time job at an equipment house to have time for her own thing and to avoid the carrer burnout that plagues so many below-the-line film crew members. It's nice to curb the testerone level at ye olde grippe shoppe and to have a hand so that every last task doesn't fall to yours truly.
The other assistant I hired for my personal filmmaking. I need to finish some projects that have yet to be edited. They've been long abandoned because they didn't live up to my grand vision and the expectation with which they were produced. Well as I'm fond of saying recently, I'm on a spiritual path or I'm not. That said, the things I've started need to be finished regardless of the way I feel about their success or failure. The school of lower expectations need not be a place of shame and remorse.
He's a cinematographer educated in Edinburgh, where my wife went to university. Perhaps we might work together in that capacity as well.
Before I make any more films, I want to finish some past projects and get some work done around the house.
I've come to accept my growth and limitations to a greater degree. I look forward to allowing myself a greater latitude.
The wife and kids are off to the old country next week. I'll be alone. I'll miss them I'm sure, but I'm looking forward to a little peace and quiet. An entire King-sized bed to myself is also going to be a joy.
As my old friend Chuck said long ago, We've got nothing to prove and we're not going anywhere.
Wow, this is really jumpled. Told you I was tired.
I think I'll stay up to about ten tonight. Big, big Friday night.

Ciao,
Signore Direttore

But A Dream - Read

Corporal Read
Originally uploaded by Herr Direktor.

But A Dream - Naitani

Private Naitani
Originally uploaded by Herr Direktor.

The Master Says 020

I discovered that what's really important for a creator isn't what we vaguely define as inspiration or even what it is we want to say, recall, regret, or rebel against. No, what's important is the way we say it. Art is all about craftsmanship. Others can interpret craftsmanship as style if they wish. Style is what unites memory or recollection, ideology, sentiment, nostalgia, presentiment, to the way we express all that. It's not what we say but how we say it that matters.

Federico Fellini

Plate Tectonics

Don't know much about (geology)
Don't know much about Science books
Don't know much about the French I took
But I do know that I love you
And I know that if you loved me too
What a wonderful world this would be

But I do know that I love you
And I know that if you loved me too
What a wonderful world this would be

Things are shifting beneath my feet. To quote another song -
I can feel the earth move
under my feet ...

I can see the walls come tumbling down ... tumbling down

Substitute postures for walls, please.

But A Dream is going to be a fine little film. I've met with an editor, someone both professional and with whom I have a personal connection. Some of the film is going to have to come together in the edit. That's entirely appropriate for films, though in my purist attitude toward things I feel somewhat apologetic.
Watching the film, I notice a couple of issues with my directing abilities. When rushed or pushed by circumstances on set, the resulting footage feels more rushed than not. When labored over, there are moments sublime interwoven with moments overwrought. In short, my work continues to be somewhat uneven.

I watched London Calling last night with my friend that's trying to salvage the sound. The film is very uneven. My vain attempt to cut it in the camera leaves me with few options of bringing it together in the edit. Any one of my vain attempts to blame some of the principal crew I hired offers a fine example of a confusing cause and effect fallacy.

There is litte despair in this. For I am trying to turn it over. Hit me again, Marcus Aurelius:
Whatever happens at all, happens as it should!

I'm right where I'm supposed to be.

I've been wanting to arrive for so long. It turns out I may not be there, but I'm certainly more here.

Ciao,
Il apprendista alla direttore

It's either a spiritual journey ...

... or it isn't.

It is or it isn't. That's the only thing that's black and white about it.
I'm on a spiritual journey or I'm not.
Contrition is an intellectual frame of regret and repentance for wrongs done
-- treating misdeeds and sins, if you will, in terms of morality. That's
all fine and good. I tend to come to that level of self-awareness and
accountability when I'm accountable at all.

However, I'm beginning to realize that might not be the point. What if I
were to amend my actions and attitudes because I want to be closer to my
creator rather than just trying to be a "good person" or to "get it right"?
Is not trying to be good or to get it right an effort to be in control?
What if I were to treat others and myself with the love that represents the
gratitude I feel for the blessings in my life?
What if I weren't concerned with good and bad as much as accepting each
moment and its players as being exactly how it and they are supposed to be?
What if I approached life as a mystery to be lived rather than a problem to
be solved?
What would happen if I let go?
How the hell do you do that anyway?
Probably requires patience and practice.
Ugh.

Shuddering to think,
Signore Direttore

Down and Out

I'm very ill. I'm trying to scoot arround town taking care of business but I'm feeling pretty faint.
I have thoughts that can not be typed just now.
But a Dream was telecined on Monday. It looks and sounds good. I look forward to seeing it cut.
More on that and the journey at a later date, amici.

Ciao,
Signore Direttore

The Master Says 019

Even if I set out to make a film about a fillet of sole, it would be about me.

Federico Fellini

The Master Says 009 Redux

Whatever happens at all, happens as it should.

Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

All Too Human

I've mentioned before that I chose Fellini as the titular master of my quest in a seemingly arbitrary manner. My first director heroes were Scorcese and Coppola, beginning in elementary school with The Godfather, Taxi Driver and Raging Bull. In high school I moved away from Coppola (I wrote a paper on Apocalypse Now with a title based on a quote from Rudyard Kipling, It's Clever but is it Art?) toward Woody Allen and Sergio Leone. I dabbled with Fellini when I moved to Germany at 18, but Jim Jarmusch and Spike Lee came along and stole my attention. Soon after that I discovered David Lynch and Godard.
My point is that I could have chosen so many others for their mentorship and alliterative possibilities -- Seeking Scorcese, Limning Lynch, Chasing Coppola ... I loved things about Fellini films, but honestly didn't make the connection to Fellini's humanism. I somehow excused my stories as not being personal in the manner of a Fellini film.
I'm slowly awakening to the heart of my storytelling, trusting that I didn't choose Federico as my virtual adviser without reason. This morning I was jolted from my cynical slumber. I referred yesterday to the grief-like experience of post-production. This morning a friend spoke of the effects of the anniversary of her mother's death on her lately. I casually related, slightly nodding my head since my mother is also passed. When is the anniversary of my mother's suicide?, I asked myself. Oh, let's see, March 3. That would be last Friday. Grief. Grieving -- allowing oneself to process and adjust to profound loss and change.
I drew upon the grieving I did in the year following my mother's death in the preparation of But A Dream. I cited my inabilty to move, to dance, the complete shutting down of my physical life to Joey in relation to his inability to step forward in the mine field.
My cynical self says this is unconnected.
My cynical self is a fucking liar.

Ciao,
Signore Direttore

Unwound

I'm a ball of string piled on the floor. Making the film wound me so super tight that unwinding went beyond restoration to a pile of frazzled silly string.
And that's just how it should be for a guy like me doing the things that I do. The challenge has been to leave the pile of string alone. To avoid trying to pick it up and start winding again. When I do that things get weird. I want to point fingers. I want affirmation. I want to build alliances and destroy others, both imagined and actual. I want to draw lines in the sand -- to define all relationships and responsibilities. I want to hold on.
It feels a bit like grief. Yesterday morning I started crying after I had been awake for awhile. My wife was alarmed, but she quickly and quietly came to my side and let me weep for a few minutes.
I'm trying to resist the all too familiar temptations of holding on this week. I'm trying to accept that some tears might be a better restorative. I'm trying to learn to stand on my own two feet and to allow others to stand around me. Some behind, some in front, some close, some further away - it is necessary for the artist to learn to do this in order to own his work and his process.

quietly,
signore direttore

Satisfaction

The minute I saw the trailer to Capote I whispered, He's getting the Oscar, to myself.
But with all the Brokeback hullabaloo, I thought it was a lost cause.
All hail Caesar!
All hail Phillip Seymour Hoffman!

I didn't love Crash, but I liked it very much. I'm very pleased that it won over BM (ah, what a perfect abbreviation).

As for Crash, check out Paul Haggis and Bobby Moresco on Creative Screenwriting's podcast. Those guys are smart and pretty right-sized in the ego department.

Ciao,
Signore Direttore

Revelation

In the past I've worn many hats on my film productions. I've always directed, produced, art directed and coordinated. At times I've operated the camera as well. There have been occasions where I've done the lighting in addition to that. After the fact, in post, I've always done my own cutting except in one or two occasions. Only once, actually -- the second time I fired the editior after seeing his cut.
By doing nothing but directing this time I was able to concentrate fully on the task at hand - understanding what the actors needed to be prepared to experience the given circumstances truthfully as if it were reality, as well as how to compose those frames to best tell the story.
I could simply tell Greg that I wanted to force perspective in some shots or open up the frame on others and leave the camera configuration to him. I had to decide what lenses I wanted, the rest was up to him and his assistants.
I worked hard with Justin on acquiring the weapons and the uniforms, but once procured Justin took over and handled every detail. He even hand-painted a camo pattern on the helmet covers to match the uniforms with fabric dye. I did have to drive out to Scapoose the night before our first day to pick up our M16s, but it was worth it in order to get actual weapons rather than plastic replicas. Justin would have done that for me, but they belong to a friend of my boss' at Gearhead, so it was better that I went.
Neil, Jeff and Zach handled all of the dirty work of bringing everybody together and feeding them. My wife usually handles catering and craft services. I know she was grateful to have that off her hands. Neil handled the film stock order, the camera order and the rest of the equipment orders.
I had to answer some questions and make a few calls. We had a couple of meetings every day all last week. I had to hand over my American Express card and some cash. I did that very happily, however.
With such dedicated support I was able to go over things in my mind about the script and finalize preparation with Joey and Heath.
In the past I've done a lot of directing and AS IF improvisations on set. I thought that was directing. And it is. Just not in such volume. This time out I discovered that by focusing on directing I didn't have to do as much directing. By just being focused on the actors on set, they were able to feel their way through each set up knowing I was there. I gave them some notes and some as ifs, but I was able to sit back and trust them as they were able to drop in and trust themselves and me. I simply reminded them where they were before each set up. (We shot this thing way out of sequence for logistical reasons) Then I sat back and watched what they did on our rehearsal for camera. No more than a word or two was needed after that in most instances.
When Joey needed to cry and break down I reminded him that it's not about trying to cry, especially for a man in front of other men. I asked him if he wanted to cry in front of Greg and the camera crew. Of course not, he replied. Then don't, I told him. I stood on the other side of a black floppy to give Joey his privacy and isolation and watched him on the clamshell. I didn't say anything to him aside from directing his attempts to step forward. I was crying with him. For me, it was a combination of pride, empathy and exposure. In order for a director to ask an actor to get naked, he better be willing to get naked himself. On cut I hugged Joey and told him we got it, he didn't have to do it again. He walked away and Greg told me the worst thing I could hear at that point - we have to go again. So I brought Joey back, I'm crying right now just thinking about it. He had released it all on the first take, so I had to pull it out of him. I had to shame him from the other side of the black curtain. It hurt like hell while we we're doing it. We got what we needed. Apparently we were working within the bounds of directing rather than manipulation or exploitation, because after calling cut and a hug, I felt clean.
Anyway, the biggest lesson I got from this weekend was that by focusing the bulk of my attention on directing, I didn't have to do as much directing.

Your,
Signore Direttore

Folk Wisdom 001

Two men in a burning house must not stop to argue.

African proverb

BAD Credits

CAST
Joey Boyd | Private Zach Naitani
Heath Lourwood | Corporal JP Read
Ricky Jackson | Private Young
Neil Kopp | 2LT Taylor

CREW
Photography/
Steadicam | Greg P. Schmitt
Art Director/
Wardrobe | Justin O'Shaughnessy
Gaffer | Joel Stirnkorb
Focus Puller | Matt Barbee
AC | TG Firestone
AD | Jeff Harding
Makeup/Hair | Nicola Corl
Makeup | Robin Schmitt
Grip | Efrem Peter
Grip | Dave McMurray
Sound Mixer | Todd Hanna
Boom Operator | Peter Bauer
Video Playback | Eric Gorski
Set Photographer | Simon Hill
UPM | Zach Lewis

Production Assistants
Nicole Hawkins
Neil Taylor
David McCormick

Producer | Neil Kopp
Director/Writer | Neal A. Corl

Executive Producers
Your Mom Films
Gearhead Studio Rentals
Neal A. Corl

Special Thanks
Koerner Camera
Thad Smith - 180 Films
Zach Sherman
Andrew Dickson
Downstream
Damon Jones - Actors In Action
Ryan Artists
Michael Cassidy
Matt Read
Aunt Julie

This list and my gratitude will grow as we move into post

The Master Says 018

It is only too true that a lot of artists are mentally ill- it's a life which, to put it mildly, makes one an outsider. I'm all right when I completely immerse myself in work, but I'll always remain half crazy.

Vincent van Gogh

Picture Wrap

Happy with the work we did this weekend.
Four thousand feet of film is on the way to the lab.
The images were beautiful on the monitor.
We'll see how they cut together.

Buona Sera,
Signore Direttore

But A Dream Day 1

We made our day.
Everyone was great.
Best crew in my experience up to now.

There were triumphs.
There were difficulties.

There was no yelling.
There was no storming off.
There was no silent scorn.

I've never worked harder.
I've never worked better.

I am grateful.
I am exhausted.

More later.

Grazie,
nc