Script Reading Party

Tonight I went to a script reading a friend of mine from way back in film school days. He’d expanded a short film I’d shot with him into feature length and had gathered actors to read it aloud. Man, did the script suck. I’m not speaking out of the classroom, since I’ve told him already how stupid it was. The idea is really outdated and just…blah. Of course it’s going to make a gazillion dollars since here’s a short list of movies I thought were stupid that made tons of cash:

1)   “Saw”

2)   “Blair Witch Project”

3)   “Fast And the Furious”

4)   “Transformers”

5)   “Paranormal Activities”

With the exception of “Blair…” the rest became a series. Even “Blair..” had a sequel. See I was right…not.

Anyway, I have no idea what makes a good movie. So don’t take my advice. But I was bored stupid. I ended up talking to some lady next to me who was going into production with $12,000 in three weeks with 4 out of 16 locations left to lock down, no committed cinematographer, script supervisor, a few actors to find and…well, not much of an idea of a shot list. I love people with moxie.

Crazy people who make movies intrigue me to no end. Most go into these things with so little game plan it’s shocking. With money on the table, I can’t imagine NOT going into it with as much “free” time I can muster. The lady was middle aged and…I got the impression this was one of her last ditch efforts to make a movie. In today’s market, this is what we get. She has a 112 page script with 14 days scheduled to shoot. With this insanity, of course I volunteered what services I could. I had to have a front seat at a head on collision. I love people this brave and stupid.

Now, I didn’t necessarily give full support. What I said was “Whatever I can do to help.” To which most people rattle off a list of things they need. I naturally stop them there and say “here’s what that means…” And explain that “whatever” to me means whatever is the least resistance between me and when football games start on t.v. To her, it meant down the line, when post production will be needed. To which, if she remembers this empty promise, I can pawn off to someone who actually has the energy to fulfill them. I am helpful like that.

During this reading, I also ran into another film school guy from back in the day. He reminded me we had taken cinematography class together. I didn’t remember him. Kinda’ wish I did, since he seemed very eager to talk to me. This moment sucks bad. Deep down inside, I didn’t like the guy. Don’t remember why I didn’t like him but I had just an uneasy feeling that I didn’t.  We chatted about movies for a bit. About the script reading. All this time I’m trying to figure out why I didn’t like him in those days. He’s not really giving me ANY clue as to what may have transpired to gain my disgust. Most people who’ve been slighted by me in some way start with “Remember back in the day when…” I want to say I recall this guy being something of a suck-up to teachers. And that I knew he wouldn’t go anywhere with his film making. Something like that. I ran with a crew that was always shooting something. People seemed to trust me with their projects. Even though I often times shat on them (like now). But I got the feeling he was one of those people on the outside looking in. And I just couldn’t remember a damn thing about him. Really frustrating. Being in a fog. I didn’t know who he hung out with. Who he knew. Who knew him. Nothing. Blank. He must’ve thought I was fucking with him. It was a bit sad. I felt somehow, this is eventually my path when I lose all senses of even my closest of friends and family. Heartbreaking.

What was most painful was the realization of how old we are now. We’re both almost 40 years of age. He teaches at a middle school whilst writing screenplays. He’d come to the same conclusion of this business that we all eventually will: you constantly hustle and get nowhere.

He didn’t necessarily get nowhere. He got an agent. Who wants him to hustle. He bristled when I spoke of constantly coming up with ideas. To which his response was a curt “I have plenty of ideas.” The parenthetical to my ears was “yeah, and they all sucked.” Rebuild. Tear down. Start over.

It really isn’t easy for any of us doing this. The sad reality as I looked out into the crowd at this small theater in Sherman Oaks…none of the people there have done really anything in the profession they’ve gotten into. Actors, a few. Not pushing forward to do better. A few my age.  Some girls very young, definitely starting out, and grinding it out at some script reading to feel like they’re doing something. Anything. That’s the life you have to embrace.  The love of the craft.

Again, I count myself lucky sometimes. Gratitude for all that has landed in my lap. Tonight I got the question again…why aren’t you doing what you want to do in life? I guess I could’ve. But I’m not. I’m sitting in the dark, secretly admonishing all these wannabes doing the best the can for a single stroke of luck in practicing their craft in hopes of an opportunity. The sad sense is that maybe one will get lucky. The rest…will fade into obscurity. Or, grind it out in life until they lose the excitement of making movies (as I sorta’ have). It may seem petty to you readers, but I get something of a cruel enjoyment of watching a person who reminds me of myself at that age, have such an amazing look of hope in their eyes and drive, and in my mind realize the path to their success will be soul crushing. Not in the sense that they won’t recover. If that isn’t the definition of “playa’ hatin’” I don’t know what is.

In my youth I use to get catty when I was slighted for shooting someone’s movie. Much like actors, I felt slighted when I wasn’t called to shoot their movie. I would fight or hold grudges at that person for not recognizing my “talent.” These days, it didn’t even occur to me that my friend never played that card. The “let’s shoot something together card.” I am thankful for that. That’s honest. And he was paying attention.